


Heresy of Truth: REVISED FOR AOO READERS

by WeaverofTalesErotica



Category: Heresy of Truth
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Alternate Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Historical, Conspiracy Theories, Devil, Multi, Mythopoeia, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Satan - Freeform, The Rapture (Christianity), church
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeaverofTalesErotica/pseuds/WeaverofTalesErotica
Summary: Heresy of Truth: Memoirs of an Ancient One, REVISED FOR AOO.Although 'Heresy of Truth: Memoirs of Ancient One' has been unpublished, I thought it appropriate to give readers the foundation for ALL of my writings, here on AOO.Thank you.
Relationships: Gabri'hel/Beli, Gabri'hel/Mikael, Lucifer/Gabri'hel





	Heresy of Truth: REVISED FOR AOO READERS

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

A mantra of sorts. Something I semi-consciously chanted as I slowly walked down a  
muddied and worm-covered foot path that broke away from the Laurel Highlands  
Hiking Trail.

What was I thinking?

After answering a Craigslist ad for a freelance writer, I had parked my car and followed the directions I had been given.  
Specifically: _'Park your car and follow the foot path to the left until you happen_ _upon a stone of intrigue. The blackberry doorway. Go to the doorway and push. Make_ _yourself at home.'_

Craigslist.

Seriously?

Movies were made about the things that happened to people who answered Craigslist ads. I could literally be walking towards my death, and no one would ever know. Why? Because I'm a dumbass. I didn't tell anyone where I would be. I didn't tell anyone where I would be, because I didn't want to jinx it. Logical, right?

I was trying to avoid squishing worms, and I just realized, as I looked down at my phone, that I had no service.

Fuck, that's weird.

I was puzzled. I always had phone service when I hiked up in this area.

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

_I should just turn around_.

The car wasn't that far away ... yet. I could just send an email with an apology, telling him I wasn't interested and be done with it, but something pulled me forward, like a giant magnet.

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

I looked down at the Google map printout in my hand, mystified that I even bothered to print it. It's not like this place was on the map. It was an Earth home I was looking for. I loved earth homes, and I had no idea one was even back here. It was definitely not something I ever noticed before nor ever heard mention of. I assume that meant the construction of it was pretty damn good.

Just as I started to look up, a huge rock caught my attention.

Huh. I'll be damned.

_There it was._

  
Located in the Forbes State Forest of Pennsylvania, was indeed, a vine covered doorway. One that could easily be mistaken as a trail hillside surrounded by blackberry bramble- if you didn't know what to look for.

I looked around, checking to see if anyone was there to witness what I now thought might be a silly trick.

I pushed. I pushed again. Then, I pushed some more. I almost fainted.

Then I heard it, a small gasp of air and a sense of release as the hillside, did, in fact, give way. I pushed a bit more to make my way through, and I stumbled into a very large, well lit cavern. Thirty feet ahead of me was another door, roughly the same size as the one I just entered. Another smaller door on the wall to its right. I immediately shut the giant door behind me and continued my observation of this magnificent architecture.

The walls to my immediate left and right each had fifteen-foot long exquisite, antique, hand-carved wooden benches that flowed with the shape of the cavern. The entirety of each solid bench, separated into six individual seats by vertical slabs of scroll-carved burled wood. Twelve seats in all. Various scenes of three men and a woman were carved into the side and back panels of each seat. Each seat had a hook on the top of the ornate back panel and an equally ornate roll-a-way storage unit underneath.

A knotty oak sign with a wood-burned engraved message was centered on the long bench, it read:

" **PLEASE REMOVE YOUR OUTERWEAR** "

To my partial dismay, and admittedly, partial delight, one seat had my name engraved on its backrest. I don't know why, _exactly_ , I was _okay_ with this. It was very weirdly presumptuous of my prospective employer, but it felt ... right. Shrugging to myself, I hung my bag on the hook of my bench, pulled out the roll-a-way and found a pair of slippers. I took off my my muddy shoes, put on the slippers, and noticed that the smaller door read:

" **WASHROOM** "

_Ahhhh, yessss!!!_ I really did have to pee! I had too much coffee. I drank a lot of coffee when I was anxious, making me more anxious, which required more coffee. _Yeah, I know._

This room was just as beautiful as the entry-way. Everything I've seen so far was obviously built with the very trees that once stood on this ground. Vaulted cave ceilings with wooden beams. All of it, very reminiscent of Viking longhouses nestled in a mountain. I was pleased to find very modern facilities. A toilet, bidet, sink. There was also a shelving unit with towels, candles, a potpourri jar, and ... t-shirts, hoodies and sweatpants.

_Did everyone change into these before going deeper in?_

I peed, washed my hands and face with a chunk of Lush's Karma soap, _(not_ _something I expected to see in a bathroom of an Earth home owned by a man, but_ _whatever)_ I grabbed a towel to dry off, and then I just had to touch the sweats. _Oooh, soft!_ I nodded my approval of their material. I hoped I wasn't supposed to change into them. That really would be weird. There was no way I was leaving my clothes here. _What if it was some crazy cult shit?_ I thought briefly. I went back out into the entryway, my thoughts on some crazy forest hoodie cult, as I  
turned after shutting the door, a cloaked man was standing directly in front of me.

“ _ **HOLYFUCKSHITOHMYGOODIALMOSTDIED**_ ”, just spewed from my mouth, rather loudly. _Now, I will die_ , I thought. Embarrassed, shaking, and ready to puke.

He was a fairly big guy, and it was evident, even with the cloak, that he was very well built. After gathering my wits, I realized I was only surprised by his presence. I felt no sense of fear or danger. In fact, he emanated such a feeling of calm and peacefulness that my first thought was this man was a monk. I stuck out my hand and began to apologize and introduce myself. "Hi, I'm ― " He took my hand in his, and with a firm but gentle grip he turned my hand over, bowed deeply, kissed my palm, and stated, without introduction and very matter-of- factly, "I am very pleased to see you. I hope everything is to your standards. Please follow me and I will take you to the main room."

_My standards?_ _What the hell?_ I was here for a job interview, not as a guest in a five star hotel.

He pushed open the second huge door and beyond I could see what appeared to be an underground tunnel, similar to a mine shaft. Not so unusual, I suppose. We are in coal  
country. I did have to stifle the urge to start humming, 'Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go.' This tunnel, shaft, corridor, hallway, whatever it was, had a dungeon feel to it. Torches hung on the wall at about 20-foot intervals. There was a slight dampness to the walls with some humidity. It was summer, and it had just rained, so I suppose the humidity should be expected. A plush moss-like carpet was set on the ground and the tunnel spiraled downwards. Strange, seeing carpet in a dungeon-tunnel-hallway-corridor-mine shaft. It was very soft to walk upon, just like moss in the forest. I've never seen anything quite like it and wondered if I could get it for my home.

I voiced my opinion of it and to my surprise, Mr. No-Name said that it was not a carpet at all, but actual moss! I was struck with a sense of wonder, as I had never in my 45 years of life seen such a thing. I had certainly never expected to see such a thing in a mine shaft! I had to stop and touch it. It was gloriously soft, and a gorgeous vibrant green for something receiving no sunlight at all. I knew moss was low-light, but this was torch-light. _Weird._

I shrugged and stood again. Mr. No-Name, hands folded across himself, head bowed, waited patiently. We walked for maybe a quarter of a mile down a slight grade that spiraled gently and then opened into the most amazing and beautiful room I have ever seen.  
 **Ever.**  
In reality, on the interwebs, on television.

This was a work of art.

40-foot high vaulted ceilings, carved from rock and supported by huge oak trees. Twelve trees on each side of the room. The room itself, the length of a football field. In the very center of the room stood a massive stone fire-pit surrounded by an enormous carved stone table that was itself surrounded by a bench. The bench and table completely encircled the fire-pit except for four openings. Like a compass rose, North, South, East, West, these openings were large enough for a person to access the fire-pit within. It appeared as though once you sat down, you either had to stand or slide around the benches to these openings, to allow others in and out. I was fairly certain it could seat a  
hundred people in comfort. It was like a giant Knights of the Round Table table, with a fire-pit in the middle.

It was phenomenal.

The benches themselves had legs that all looked like miniature trees, holding up the long seats. A giant carved snake made its way across the entire circumference of the shoulder-height backrest, continuing where it left off at each of the four openings. There were symbols carved into the table as well, but I wasn't close enough yet to make them out. There was enough room between the table and the stone fire-pit for a person to walk, feed the fire, cook, and serve food. I noticed that the fire-pit had individual sections for cooking. Grates for meats, or maybe baked potatoes, a small oven-like structure for pizza or bread, and an open flame with a hook for a kettle or small cauldron.

This was stunning.

I was looking around like a kid in a candy shop, enthralled.

The gargantuan trees that lined the main room had enormous branches that formed the entry-ways of other rooms. Sunlight poured from the ceiling in circular patterns and I surmised that had I climbed up the hill on my walk here, I may have seen the portals providing this light, in the ground above my head.

I was completely and utterly in awe.

I have always, always, always wanted an earth home. Not in my wildest dreams could I have fabricated this one. It was amazing. Mr. No-Name told me to make myself at home, and that my new employer would meet with me very soon. He walked past the fire-pit, to the far left, and then disappeared between two trees.

I was relieved that he left and hoped I had a few minutes before my prospective employer joined me. I knew I must have looked like a fool. Standing there, turning in circles, mouth gaping. It was all just so ... surreal. New Zealand's Hobbiton had nothing on this. I've spent my life living near Seven Springs Mountain Resort, built by Adolph Dupre in 1937. And Fallingwater, built by Frank Lloyd Wright, also in 1937. I was no stranger to the magnificent architecture that uses what comes from the land, but this was something that far surpassed anything I had ever seen, and it has stayed a secret. The twelve enormous trees on either side of me separated into 6 rooms on each side. I wanted- needed- to see more of this home. I began on the right side, thinking to work myself all the way around. The first room had two immense tapestries covering the entrance. Depicting again, three men and a woman in various activities. _I'd have to remember to look at these more closely if I had the opportunity_ , I thought. The tapestries were pulled slightly apart, affording me a look inside of the room.

A library.

Shelves built into the earth, trimmed with knotted oak, as high as the ceiling. A rolling ladder, just like you would see in the biggest libraries. Each and every shelf containing more books than I have ever seen in any home library. Hell, it might be more than some University libraries. There had to be thousands of books. From what I could tell, of all different genres and time-periods. There was even an entire section of what appeared to be leather-bound travel journals. There had to be at least five hundred of them.

_Someone wrote a lot!_

In the center of the room was an enormous circular stone counter with hundreds of bottles, jars, and flasks. All housing some thing, or another. I noticed a gap in the counter with three steps, and walked down them. Here was a recessed area, where the counter above doubled as a high wall down here. A huge seating area was nestled inside this wall of stone. Nothing artificial, all of it carved right from the Earth. It too was recessed, and there were three more steps that led into this amazing conversation pit. I walked down these steps and found a stone circular bench covered with furs and vibrant purple, red, and blue cushions. Colorful throws and blankets, a calming and peaceful bohemian vibe to it all. Behind the stone bench, built into the high counter walls, were hundreds of small nooks, storing things like scrolls and crystals. The stone bench surrounded a table with a tiny fire-pit built into the center of it. It smelled of incense and there was a basket on the table full of resins.

Gorgeous.

Hidden away, to read in peace.

I ran my hand across the cool stone table and went back up the steps. When I re-entered the Library I looked around again, being more mindful of everything I was seeing. Various stands and cases housed what looked like an assortment of antiques; globes, hourglasses, and other knick-knacks. Large and intricate candelabras, burning a multitude of candles that illuminated the entire room. They were clearly placed strategically throughout the room to maximize the light. I could, and would love to spend the rest of my life in this room. It was everything that has ever enchanted me since childhood.

I reluctantly moved on to the second room and found another huge conversation pit with another fire-pit built into the table. This room's walls were covered in fabrics of all colors, hues,  
and gypsy-like patterns. Tapestries depicting nature scenes. Trees, creeks, deer, owls. More candelabras and candles burning. This conversation pit, like the one in the library, housed nooks as well. These were much larger and held board games, puzzles, and card games, like Uno. I noticed a Ouija board and Tarot cards. Old fashioned, hand-made illusion toys, like  
the arrow in the coin and the cucumber in a bottle sat in their own nooks. A beautiful marble and crystal chess set sat on the stone table. A Rubik's Cube sitting next to it,  
turned at an angle that indicated someone had recently played with it. Retro fiber optic lights, a wave lamp, lava lamps, and a Tesla lamp, all had a corner of the room. Another corner housed a very large hanging rain lamp.

_Pretty cool_ , I thought. 

I loved all of this stuff as a kid.

I wanted to explore this room more, but I also wanted to move on. It couldn't be that much longer before I met my new employer. He was eccentric, and judging from what I  
had seen so far, I was going to adore him. The next room was to die for as well. It housed a few easels and tons of blank canvases. Paintings lined the walls and were stacked three and four deep against the walls. I would love to look at all of them. Some I recognized, like a fabulously done replica of The Potato Eaters. Many of them I thought I recognized but just couldn't  
place. The rest were unfamiliar, and I wondered if my soon-to-be employer painted any of them himself. There were stacks of papers. Watercolor, drawing, card stock, construction. Shelves upon shelves of every sort of artists paint imaginable, acrylic, oil, watercolors. There was a small desk with glitters, tapes, and stencils. A bin full of fabrics. A sewing  
machine! I wondered in that moment, especially after the Lush soap, if a woman didn't live here as well. The entire room was hung with tapestries and artworks. A loom stood in the corner  
with a partially completed tapestry attached to it. _A loom!_ I was definitely in love with this place.

The fourth room was an office. The décor was a gorgeous Gothic-style, with more hung tapestries and a giant carved cherry desk. A dragon head carved into each leg. A colossal, ornately-carved chair, fit for a King, sat behind the desk. A laptop, modem, printer, all the regular office stuff you would find anywhere else, were housed in a corner unit several feet behind the desk.

The fifth room, much to my surprise, looked like a room you might find in the botanical gardens. Tropical trees, plants, vines. It was very warm and I expected a toucan or a monkey to appear. I heard water and started walking towards the sound.

_Oh. My. God._

This was insane. I couldn't believe I was seeing this inside of here. These last two rooms housed, not only a tropical forest, but a waterfall that landed in a pond. The pond, very possibly, was the exact length of a lap pool. It abruptly ended at the wall and I had to assume the water ran elsewhere. I looked up to see what the water source was, and there was a natural waterfall flowing from the high ceiling! A steamy, smaller body of water, sat behind this waterfall and I thought it must be a hot spring. It was very warm and humid in here, and the flora was absolutely beautiful. I think I may have even spotted a banana tree. I wasn't certain of the light source that contributed to the growth of everything, but this was amazing.

I exited the rain forest room and noticed to my right, a small alcove tucked in the wall with a small seating area. I suppose someone could easily sit there and at the right angle, watch everything going on in the main room without ever being spotted. _I'd have to remember that_. I crossed the main room then. The giant Knights of the Round Table fire-pit was to my left now, and to my right was a wall that held more nooks, with candles, orbs, hour-  
glasses, skulls, and other fascinating décor.

When I got across the room- what would be the last room on the left- was a hallway. And now I knew where Mr. No-Name had disappeared to. I didn't venture there, as I was still waiting for my host, so I continued to explore the next five rooms.

The _next five rooms_ , weren't really rooms after all. These five separate entrances all opened up into a huge commercial kitchen and indoor garden. I pinched myself. Literally.

I was a foodie and so were my daughters. This was every home cook's dream. An enormous rectangular island sat in the center of the kitchen area. It had a galley sink, a butcher's block, and various drawers and cupboards underneath. Cast iron and stainless steel pots, skillets, and pans hung from a circular rack above. Marble counters surrounded most of the perimeter. Where there wasn't a counter there were commercial ovens, a charbroiler, a flat-top grill, and even a stand mixer! Stainless steel shelving units were filled with spices, condiments, and Ball-jar preserved foods. Another sink, this one being a shallow granite one, with a built in strainer, was on the far end, closest to the garden area, with fruits and vegetables in it.  
Streams of light from above flowed into the room, making it appear as though it was wide open. Thriving herbs, vegetables, and even fruit trees all grew in happiness here.

There was even an aquaponics system!

I heard what I thought was the waterfall in the rain forest room, but that was on the other side of the main room. My ears had to be deceiving me. I looked to my left and there, a large wooden door was standing open in the floor. Below, a swollen creek flowed. A net sitting in the water was secured to the door, and three trout were squirming about in the net.

_Holy. Shit._

I wondered if the rain forest room pond emptied into this creek as well. I reached down, let the cold water run over my hands, staring in awe and wonder, thinking of how I would do just about anything ... _no, pretty much sell my firstborn_ , was more precise ... to live here, when I felt a sense of being watched.

I turned to look up, and there, leaning against one of the tree pillars with his arms crossed, was the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

_Really?_

I almost laughed out loud at this insanity. Was I on some sick television show? I actually looked around for cameras before I looked back at him.

He smiled a smile that could charm the Devil, as he clasped his hands behind his back, and walked towards me.

"I see you are admiring my fishing hole." He said, with a most refined and charming British accent.

I absently wiped my wet hands on my khakis and tried to compose myself. Was this my new employer? His son perhaps? Either way, here I was on my knees in his kitchen,  
dipping my hands into his stream, ogling him. I must look like a madwoman. He was waiting for an answer and I was incapable of speaking coherently.

He was very tall, 6'4", maybe. Athletic, strong, grey streaks in a neatly trimmed, yet, barbaric auburn beard. He was very simply dressed. Levi's, dark brown Red Wing work boots, a white wife-beater. If asked to guess, I would say he worked outdoors and just got home. He was covered in tattoos, full sleeves that I would love to get a better look at someday. _Christ, he was beautiful_ , I sighed.

His very demeanor was that of a distinguished gentleman even though he looked like a lumberjack-biker-berserkr. I must have been standing there with my mouth hanging open. I still hadn't responded, and I knew I looked like a fool after he asked,

"Are you okay?" In a very concerned tone.

I nodded my head, stood up, and tried to talk. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just ... ummm ―" I walked towards him, extending my hand in greeting so I could introduce myself, and he, just as Mr. No-Name, took my hand, turned it over, and kissed my palm. He smelled of trees, leaves, ozone, and ... man.

"I understand." He laughed.

I felt so stupid.

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

"No need to explain yourself. My home can be rather ... enchanting... to first time visitors." He continued his very charming smile.

_As can you_ , I thought, as I tried to not swoon like a schoolgirl.

He was soft-spoken, and very ... alluring. I was so busy trying to compose myself, that it wasn't until that very moment, that I actually looked into his eyes. In that very moment of direct eye contact, all of the composure I had mustered so far flew straight to hell. His eyes were mesmerizing. I was spell-bound. Time stopped, and I am pretty damn sure I quit breathing.

Nothing moved and nothing else in the world existed.

An almost ice blue, with rings of grey and green that looked like color bursts emanating from his pupils. His eyes had the intensity of a man who has experienced much in his life. Known much pain ... heartache. Sorrow, regret. Through his polite behaviour was a hard, cold man ... yet something about him was also gentle and warm. Yes, he hides his heart, that was very evident in his eyes.

In that moment, I had a rush of feeling that this man was very familiar to me, and I no longer felt like an idiot. Quite the opposite. I felt that all roads had led me here, and here _\- was exactly where I belonged_.

"I am very pleased that you even came to my home. I realize that the entire process must be very strange. However, I assume your endurance of it, to be a good sign that you will strongly consider the position. Please, allow me to show you the rest of my home." He said as he spread his arms wide and smiled once more.

"It is my disposition, if you are familiar with my home, then you will be more familiar with me," he went on.

Again, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked.

"I desperately need for you to be much more familiar with me." He stopped, turned, and tilted his head. Eyebrows furrowed, he looked at me as though he may have said something offensive and wanted to correct it. "Only so that you may interpret who I truly am through your words, of course."

I felt as if he were looking into my very soul. Unsettling, yet comforting. Trance-like.

"Of course." I agreed.

I probably would have agreed to him removing my kidneys.

But ... he had said _'truly'_ as though he had been misjudged all of his life and I was the only one in the world who could correct it. He certainly wasn't as old as I expected. _Who was he?_ I wondered. _Criminal? Rogue_ _CIA? Recluse billionaire? Some actor I've never seen?_

My imagination was running wild, as it tends to do. From a writer's perspective, I did agree with him. How could I possibly give life to a character I did not understand?

"Can I ask," I said, "what is it that you do, who are you, that you require your memoirs to be written?"

He took my hand, patted it gently and said, "In time, love. In time, you will understand it all," and winked.

_Love?_ Must be a European thing, like _'hon'_ in Baltimore. This man was interesting, to say the very least, and the job held promise of a good pay and fresh writing material. Not something easy to come by for a freelance writer in the sticks. He certainly was easy on the eyes. _Could be worse_ , I thought. _And that accent_!

We began the tour of his home. As he was evidently aware that I had already seen everything on this level, we ventured through the walkway that Mr. No-Name disappeared into. It led to another path that went to an even deeper level. This lower level housed a long corridor that had six of those huge doors on the left side of the hall. The entire wall on the right was cave-like, similar to the path Mr. No- Name had brought me down. Torches hung from this side in intervals, allowing for the alcoves of each door to be illuminated.

He opened the first door.

A suite. A breath-taking suite, at that. Upon entry and just beyond a small foyer, there was a large office space with a desk, computer, and printer. This room opened up to an even larger sitting room with tapestries, artworks, and bookcases full of books. Candelabras everywhere, and just like upstairs, a conversation pit with furs, cushions, and a table with a small fire-pit.  
He walked me through this room into the bedroom, which had a gigantic four poster canopy bed. Thick panels of vibrant hues and patterns hanging from the frame, enclosing the entire bed in darkness and privacy. A bathroom with a sunken tub was to the left of the bed. Beyond the tub was the toilet, sink, shower, and another room. This room was pretty much a huge walk-in closet with a vanity. After leaving the bedroom, I noticed that just to the side and before re-entering the sitting room was an enormous hearth and a small, but complete, kitchen.

There were no doors on any of the rooms, only deep alcoves leading from one room to the next. Beyond the sitting area was a brightly lit opening, with gauzy flowing fabrics separating the inside from the outside. Wind chimes played their music in the soft summer breeze. Beyond the gauzy fabric and wind chimes, there was another recessed sitting area that overlooked a lake hundreds of feet below and about a quarter of a mile away. A stone table, again, like all of the others, with a small fire-pit in the center. Torch holders stood in the four corners.

It was stunning.

He explained that all of the other suites were similar, except three of the others each had two bedrooms, 'big enough for a small family' he said, and we returned the way we came.  
We left the suite and continued the tour. As we were re-tracing our steps back through the corridor that housed the suites, I could see a great and vast illuminated surface that  
was glittering, as if the sun was reflecting the light. I hadn't noticed it before, because it was to my left and he had guided me to the right. As we got closer I could see that a beaded curtain of many different gemstones, stretched from one side of a huge opening to another, separating the inside from the outside. Once upon this opening and through the curtain, the view was breathtaking.

Miles and miles of trees, the tops of trees, precisely. In fact, I could reach out and touch the top of a pine that must have stood 100 feet tall. The sun overhead showed this was a western view. This would be an amazing place to watch the sunset. A bench was carved right into the ground, again, like everywhere else, and it was set about three feet down so you had to step into it. Stepping down into the conversation pit, full of cushions and pillows, he lit a candle in a holder, also carved into the bench, and then offered me his hand, so I could step down and sit with him.

"Tell me, what do you think of my home, so far?" He asked. He had a tone to his voice that made think he was anxious about my opinion. As if it mattered. His home was amazing, and I told him so. He then asked, "How does it make you feel?"

"Feel?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes, love. Feel." He was looking at me that way again, trance-like, casting a spell, and I couldn't even think.

My immediate reaction, my gut instinct, was that every moment I had spent in this house so far had felt serene, peaceful, and right. As though I belonged here. As though I were home.

Ridiculous, but true.

"I feel serene. Peaceful. Happy. I want to live here, I feel at home here, I feel this is meant to be, and I belong here.”

_What the hell? Did I just say that out loud?_

Yep, I must have, because he was grinning from ear to ear.

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

"I am glad for that," he nodded his head, "because I was hoping you might agree to stay here as you write." He squinted his eyes, raised an eyebrow, and waited, I assumed he was studying my face for a reaction. I am sure I looked stunned.

He quickly went on ... "I know it seems presumptuous. Odd, even. But, I think it might benefit us both." He said, as he sat a little straighter and rubbed his palms on his thighs. I don't really know what he was seeing in my face because I was ready to go home and pack this very second, but he seemed anxious, as if I would say no. "Please, hear me out," he continued, "It would save time and it would be most helpful if you were right here when I wished to talk. I do hate wanting to do something and having to wait. Most times if I wait, the thoughts disperse and trying to get them back is most difficult."

He was rambling. Like he was the one who should be nervous. Maybe I _was_ his first Craigslist victim!

He was still talking ... "I wouldn't have to call and you wouldn't have to be inconvenienced by rushing over here at odd hours."

He smiled.

I was a bit taken aback, but in truth, I would stay here forever.

He started again ... "My apologies for being so forward. I meant no offense. It was rude of me to assume you would want to stay here, I was just thinking it convenient." He put his head down as if he were ashamed of himself for asking. I had to relieve him of his torture.

"I would love to stay here while I write. You are right, it would be convenient ... and truth be told, I do love it here."

He lifted his head again then, his eyes told the same story as his smile. He was relieved.

He stood then, clapped his hands together, and said "Very good, then. It is agreed. I am certain you have some arrangements to make, and as it is mid-week, I will hope to see you back on Monday. Is that sufficient time for you?"

"Yes, yes, of course it is, Mr. ― "

It was then that I realized that I had no idea who my employer was. I never learned the name of the man who, without even asking to see any of my work, had just invited me to spend a lengthy amount of time in his very beautiful and very secluded home. A home with no mobile service.

_Craigslist._

Christ.

He briefly bowed his head, as if he'd forgotten his name and it might be written on the ground beneath us. He looked up once more, directly into my eyes, clasped his hands behind his back, what I now concluded was his resting position, and very seriously said ...

"Lucifer, love. Call me, Lucifer."

"Lucifer?

As in, the Devil?" I asked, eyebrow raised in both question and disbelief that a mother would name her child that. No wonder the guy was eccentric.

"One and the same, I most reluctantly admit." He said it with a straight face and very intense.

I blinked. Repeatedly. I could feel myself doing it but I couldn't stop. Did I just hear that? He didn't say, 'yes, as in the Devil' ... he said 'one and the same'. Lucifer. The Devil. Satan.

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

It figures.

_Goddamnit._

The perfect job with a gorgeous guy, in his gorgeous house, all shot to hell because the guy is a fucking nut and I already agreed to move in with him. Oh My Fucking God ... why was my nut detector broken?!?! I inwardly cried. I rubbed my forehead in frustration and I am certain the look on my face betrayed me. With complete and utter sincerity, and a look of almost pleading in his eyes, he said;

"Please, my reputation far precedes me, but trust that it is a false one. And you, my dear, you are the one who is going to correct it," he grinned.

Well, that explains it. I feel much better now. He wasn't a criminal or rogue CIA agent. He wasn't a wealthy recluse or an actor I'd never seen. He wasn't even a goddamn Craigslist killer.  
Nope, he was the Devil himself. Could I still say goddamn and Jesus Christ? I must have lost my mind, or the Devil really is the master of trickery, because in that very moment, I was looking dead into his beautiful eyes and I trusted him implicitly. I not only trusted him, I accepted what he said as fact.

"Correct the reputation of Lucifer?" I slowly shook my head. "This is going to be a challenge, you know?"

"Yes, I do know. I also know that if anyone can do it, it is you. Please, say you will still do it?"

He was almost pleading.

"Yes. Lucifer. I will." I smiled.

"Wonderful! Please, allow me to have Beli take you back to your car so that you may do whatever must be done before your return." I assumed he was referring to Mr. No-Name, and Mr. No-Name now had a name. Beli. He said it 'Beh-lee'. We walked back through the beaded curtains and down a flight of steps lit by torches. There, beyond another giant door, stood a now cloak-less Beli. My shoes in one hand and keys in the other. An absolutely beautiful Mercedes-Maybach behind him. As well as a custom Harley, a touring Ducati, a Jaguar, and- although a standard vehicle for where we were at, it seemed quite out of a place in this particular garage- a Ford F-350. Each of them, dark as obsidian.

Jesus Christ.

Could I say Jesus Christ?

This guy was gorgeous, intelligent, clearly very wealthy, and quite possibly insane. He kissed me on the cheek, thanked me again for answering the ad and coming to his home, and as parting words, "I am very much looking forward to our new adventure."

All I could do was smile and nod my head in agreement as I lowered myself into the Maybach. Beli shut the door, got in, and we sat in silence for the whole three minutes it took to get me back to my car. When he opened the door for me to get out, he said, "I am glad you will be joining us. I look forward to spending time with you. Oh, and the cloak? Completely for show, I hate that thing. Lucifer likes a bit of drama every now and again." He smirked.

Damn. Beli had and accent and some gorgeous eyes too. Eyes that made my heart stop.

_What the hell?_ Could I say, What the Hell?

Where did these guys come from? I found myself looking for cameras again, just in case.

Later that night after a bath, a mint tincture, and some Farmville, I found myself entirely too excited to sleep. I Googled Lucifer, and you can imagine what hits I came up  
with. Was I really going to do this? This was by far, the most ridiculous thing I have ever done ... and I have done more than my share of ridiculous things. Bad choices. NUT DETECTOR IS BROKEN! Was I was seriously going to be moving into a strange man's ( a man who is quite possibly insane) home (that just happens to be hidden from the world) so I can write his memoirs? The memoirs of the self-proclaimed Lucifer? Really? Yep. It took some time, but I've finally gone off the edge. This was absurd. I texted each of my three daughters and invited hem over for dinner on Saturday. Telling them all that I had big news for them ...

... then I smoked a joint. A fat one.


End file.
